


When Our Lips Meet I Feel a Fire in the Winter Cold

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One frosty morning in December, Ianto wakes up to a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Our Lips Meet I Feel a Fire in the Winter Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Christmas fic that’s well ahead of its time. Worry not – there will be more holiday fics as the day approaches – so I hope you enjoy this in the meantime!

Ianto was woken by a tongue on his cheek. He lifted his hand to bat the offender away, but didn’t get very far as said tongue crept up to his ear and a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

 

“Leave me alone, Jack, it’s five in the morning,” he grumbled as Jack nuzzled along his jawline like an enormous puppy.

 

“There’s mistletoe above us,” Jack’s voice purred in his ear. “Can’t ignore traditions, now, can we?”

 

“It’s December 13th,” Ianto said with a sigh, but manoeuvred himself enough to look at his lover. “It’s too early for the mistletoe trick.”

 

“It’s never too early for the mistletoe trick!” Jack said with an altogether too cheery a smile and brought Ianto closer for a messy, overly enthusiastic wake-up kiss.

 

It wasn’t like Ianto didn’t enjoy Jack’s kisses, actually – he really, really did – it was just that he didn’t much fancy being woken up this early in the morning. Even under these circumstances, thought, he let himself melt in Jack’s embrace and shifted around just a bit until he had the Captain pinned under him.

 

“Hold that thought,” Jack whispered against his lips as he pulled away. “Believe it or not, it’s actually half past seven and we’ve got to get up soon.”

 

Ianto could feel himself frowning. “But it’s so dark outside.”

 

“You said it yourself,” Jack teased. “It’s December the 13th. The days aren’t really that long anymore.”

 

Ianto let out a disappointed sigh and then looked at the calendar hung near the window, and then felt his smile rise back up.

 

“Hang on,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Jack’s. “It’s Sunday. We’re only on call today.”

 

Jack faltered, chancing a look in the same direction. “You’re right. Well, then,” he grinned, hands straying from Ianto's shoulders where they’d been moments ago and down to the small of his back. “We’ve got all day to stay under the mistletoe.”

 

“We’ve still got work to do,” Ianto protested feebly. “I’m working on something that–”

 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Jack groaned. “I’ll let you do your thing, I promise, but breakfast first.”

 

“Breakfast first,” Ianto agreed readily as his empty stomach suddenly made itself known, noisily protesting the continued absence of food. “I’m right behind you.”

 

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Jack said with a cheeky wink and Ianto squirmed as the Captain poked him in the ribs. “I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen.”

 

Rather reluctantly, Ianto threw the covers off of himself as Jack disappeared from the room, intent on making them something to eat. With the blankets off, the room was surprisingly chilly in the raw half-light of the morning and Ianto shivered as he got up in quest of the jeans he usually wore whenever he got the chance to spend the day at home. He put them on and sat back on the unmade bed, trying to stifle a yawn as he fired up his laptop. He was working on digitalising as much of Torchwood’s archives as he could – after all, the age of paper documents was slowly dying out and he rather liked the idea of being the one to start the process. He’d decided to transfer most of the things he needed on his own laptop so that he could work whenever the urge took him and he did it most happily from home. Really, he didn’t know what Jack’s problem with it was – but then again, Jack didn’t understand how he could take pleasure in rummaging through archives of any sort, digital or not.

 

Well, Ianto thought as he settled down with a smile, it was time to get to work.

 

**o.O.o**

 

When Ianto finally made his way to the kitchen, nearly half an hour later, Jack was still doing his magic on the counter.

 

“C’mere and kiss the cook,” he quipped and Ianto obeyed. If he accompanied the action with an eye roll then he couldn’t really be blamed – it wasn’t one of Jack’s best lines, even if he considered everything else he had heard from him so far.

 

“ _Another_ one?” He asked incredulously as he looked up and saw the small green plant Jack had nailed on one of his kitchen cupboards. “You’re really outdoing yourself, you know.”

 

“There’s never too many occasions to kiss someone,” Jack assured him with an expression that was altogether too serious for the situation they were in. “And plus, it’s Christmas! Come on, be excited!” he added with a grin, patting Ianto on the arm with his wooden spoon. “This holiday didn’t even exist when I was born and I love it more than any of you people do.”

 

“I assure you, Jack, I tend to appreciate Christmas,” Ianto said primly as he sat on the small kitchen table and watched as his lover flipped the pancakes with expert movements. “It’s just that there’s still two weeks until–”

 

The rest of the sentence remained a mystery as Ianto was unceremoniously and thoroughly snogged once more. Jack’s lips were sugary and sticky with the hot chocolate he was drinking and Ianto's arms flailed for a second or two before his hands settled on Jack’s shoulders to bring him closer.

 

“If you don’t want to me to ruin our breakfast, you’ll have to stop distracting me,” Jack breathed against his lips and pulled away. Ianto watched him in disbelief as he returned to his cooking as if nothing had happened.

 

“ _I’m_ distracting _you_?” He asked in fake outrage and delighted in the bright smile that got him in return. “You’re the one who came on to me!”

 

Jack just nodded at something a foot or so higher than Ianto's head and the younger man looked up. What he saw there was something he’d come to expect since he’d woken up this morning and yet something that kept on surprising him.

 

“Seriously, where are those things coming from?”

 

**o.O.o**

 

Artefact No. 1836285

Description: Small, cylindrical object; metal looks like silver; actual material unknown.

Purpose: Unknown

 

Ianto's fingers clicked away and he was completely engrossed in his work to the point where he’d completely drowned out the rest of the world. He knew that Jack was still around somewhere – in fact, ten minutes ago or so he’d went out to buy milk – but he wasn’t sure what exactly he was filling his day with.

 

Just as he’d expected, Jack had whined – a lot, and rather noisily – at Ianto's resolution to keep on working even in his supposed day off. Of course, Torchwood never really had a day off, but the closest thing they had was happening now (they only had to come in if the Rift alarm made an appearance) and the Captain had insisted that he had to do his best to relax in the meantime.

 

But the truth was, neither of them could truly stay in one place for an entire day. There wasn’t much to do outside – snow was slowly piling up and the wind was chilly – and the safety of Ianto's flat was too much of a temptation, but they still got restless after a while.

 

And Ianto was perfectly content like that – he much preferred sitting on his own sofa with the soft lights of his Christmas tree in the background instead of the damp undergrounds of the Hub and the increasingly cold Archive rooms. That was the problem with the Hub as a whole – the building was older than dirt and in the summer it was pleasant enough, but the winter usually meant a coat on top of Ianto's suit jacket and a cold or two if the winter got particularly cold.

 

And really, right now, this was his definition of heaven. He loved his job, but he also liked having a bit of time for himself every now and then. He also didn’t really mind that there wasn’t a strict separation between said job and his personal life – first, because it was practically impossible to manage an actual social life if he separated it from Torchwood completely – precisely because he liked what he was doing.

 

A big part of that acceptance, admittedly, sourced in the man who was currently coming through the front door of his flat. Ianto smiled as he looked up and saw Jack shake the snow off of his hair and then face him with an expression that was bordering on petulant.

 

“Still stuck on that, are you?” he asked as he dropped everything he’d bought on the living room table. “You’re the exact definition of a workaholic, you know that, right?”

 

“Absolutely,” Ianto nodded with an impish grin. “I’m expecting a raise soon, if my boss just happens to be generous enough.” Jack raised an eyebrow at him and Ianto felt his smile widen. “He knows just how eager I can be.”

 

“Come here, you,” Jack growled playfully and Ianto put away his laptop just in time to brace himself for the Captain’s sudden attack.

 

**o.O.o**

 

Hours later, when night had already fallen through Cardiff and Ianto had finally managed to tick off another block of artefacts he needed to list in Mainframe’s database, he was back under the covers of his bed and was leeching from Jack’s warmth as the man’s smooth voice lulled him to sleep.

 

“D’you want to me to stop?” Jack asked, the hand that wasn’t holding the book ruffling Ianto's hair lightly. “You look tired.”

 

“’M fine,” Ianto assured him and leant his head on his lover’s shoulder. “One more chapter, will you?” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he rather liked the idea of falling asleep to the background of Jack’s reading.

 

“Fine, then,” Jack conceded and marked the page with his middle finger for just long enough to kiss him. He looked ready to explain, but Ianto stopped him with a finger to his lips.

 

“I know,” he assured him. “Mistletoe.”


End file.
